Those Who Trust (Phan)

Part 31

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"Oh."

A soft sound that carried so much meaning. Phil knew. Phil knew that Dan was hard. Phil had felt it, and there was no way denying it, and somehow it felt like the room had started spinning, everything surrounding them was a blurry mess.

"Do you want me to help you with that?" A suggestive tone. Phil's pupils were blown wide, the blue in them devoured by black.

And suddenly Phil's palm was pressed against Dan's jean-clad erection, and Dan flinched away from the touch with a shriek.

"What are you doing?" The words tumbled over his lips in a hurry as he tried to back away, but the touch didn't disappear and Phil's eyes didn't hold comfort in them like usual but something cruel instead.

"I'm just helping out my boyfriend."

A squeeze of Phil's hand around his cock made Dan scream and shoot up, and suddenly he wasn't in the lounge anymore but in his bed, half covered by his blanket, the nightlight Phil had bought filling the room with a soft glow.

Phil shifted next to him and blinked up at him drowsily from under a blanket, his black hair a ruffled mess and his voice rough from sleeping.

"Are you okay?"

Dan looked at him wide-eyed, but the black in Phil's eyes was gone and replaced by sleepy blue.

"Yeah, yeah. Just- I just need to go to the toilet."

Wrestling the blanket off, Dan quickly left the bed and stumbled out of the room, down the hallway, down the few stairs into the bathroom. He quickly shut the door behind himself and locked it, before sitting down on the floor and letting out a sigh.

His dream had been reality a few hours previously, up to a certain point at least. But Phil had backed off, had withdrawn his hand as soon as he had noticed what was going on and had asked Dan if he was okay and if Phil should leave. After remembering how to breathe, Dan had asked in a weak voice if they could just finish the horror movie and not talk about it. Phil had agreed and had backed off, left more distance between the two of them then he normally would when they watched a movie, and Dan had been thankful for that. But just then, in his dream, Phil hadn't backed off, and although Dan knew that it wasn't real, that the real Phil acted differently in situations like that, the haunting image of his dream - or should he call it a nightmare instead? - was still the one that stuck in his mind.

The worst thing about it all though was that Dan didn't know what he wanted. Did he want Phil to back off? Did he want to do sexual things with Phil? He knew that he wouldn't be the one initiating things, there was no way in hell. But if Phil was the one to take the first step-

Dan cut off his thoughts, not daring to go there. No. He remembered a time when sex was a good thing, when being physically close to others was intimate and promised safety and wasn't scary at all. But now only the thought of being touched, of another hand other than his own down there, brought memories of pain and fear and darkness and utter helplessness. He wasn't ready for that.

What if he would never be ready for it again?

And yet sometimes he thought about what it would be like. How Phil's hand would feel around his cock. If Phil would be gentle and loving or if the dominant side of his would shine through. If he would be able to hold Dan together while the younger man simultaneously fell apart under his touch. Dan never dared let his thoughts venture too deep into this terrain, but when he allowed himself to dream for a little while, a feeling of longing started to bloom in his chest, one of wishful thinking.